


The Ineffable Goose

by Cakemage



Category: Good Omens (TV), Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)
Genre: Animal antics, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Implied Relationships, Mostly Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21845365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakemage/pseuds/Cakemage
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are plagued by a mysterious and horrible goose that pesters them throughout history.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 149
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	The Ineffable Goose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [middnighter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/middnighter/gifts).



The Garden of Eden, 4004 B.C.

Aziraphale and Crawley stood silently upon Eden’s Eastern wall in the rain and watched the departing humans for some time, both lost in thought. Just as Adam and Eve were about to disappear over the horizon, however, the two celestial beings were startled out of their reveries by a loud honk that was soon accompanied by the sound of rustling wings and the soft “pap-pap” of approaching webbed feet. Aziraphale and Crawley turned in unison and stared at the Goose that was now standing next to them and looking up at them with an inscrutable gleam in its eyes.

“Well hello there, Sister Goose,” said Aziraphale with an air of good-natured apprehension. “What brings you here?”

The Goose cocked her head to the side and gave him a brief, beady-eyed stare before honking again, spreading her wings and flying off towards the retreating humans. 

“Well, at least they won’t have to worry about dinner tonight,” said Crawley with a shrug.

“The poor little dear,” Aziraphale replied, shaking his head.

“Hang on, what’s the little blighter doing now?”

The Goose had landed a few meters behind Adam and Eve, and was slowly sneaking up behind them, her head low to the ground. When she was within pecking distance, the Goose honked loudly, badly startling the two humans and causing Adam to drop the flaming sword. Before either he or Eve could react, the Goose picked up the sword by the hilt and began to waddle away as fast as she could.

“Oh, bugger. A right shame, that,” said Crawley. “Not even ten minutes after you gave them the bloody thing, too.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Well, at least they had it long enough to defeat that lion. Still, I wonder how those poor humans are supposed to defend themselves now. I mean, do you suppose I ought to go and fetch it for them?” he asked, his hands clasped together in worry.

“Ah, looks like there’s no need. Seems they’ve caught up to the little bugger. Surprisingly fast, these humans,” Crawley replied with a small chuckle. 

Sure enough, Adam and Eve were quickly working together to retrieve the sword from the thieving Goose, with Eve grabbing her from behind and Adam darting forward to grab the sword when the Goose dropped it with an offended honk of protest. Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped in relief as he watched the two humans repeatedly thwart the Goose’s further attempts to reclaim the sword. Eventually, she gave up on her efforts and allowed Adam and Eve to continue their journey, their flaming prize safely in hand.

“Oh, thank heavens,” he said, clutching his hands over his heart as Crawley rolled his eyes.

The Goose watched the humans depart for a moment, then spread her wings and flew back up to the Eastern wall. 

“Honestly, now. Just what on Earth was that all about?” Aziraphale scolded her as she landed next to him.

“Brarp,” replied the Goose.

Crawley got the impression that it was only her lack of shoulders that prevented her from shrugging noncommittally. She seemed to be giving it her best effort nonetheless, as she slowly bobbed her head, raised her wings and puffed her feathers out. Then, apparently satisfied with her mischief, the Goose flew back into Eden and came to rest on the nearest pond, where she set about grooming herself.

The angel and demon watched her for a moment, before Crawley broke the silence by saying “Still, it was a bit funny, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it was a bit—no it most certainly was not!” Aziraphale began to agree before catching himself and giving his companion a highly affronted look.

“Hmm,” said Crawley with a small grin and a hair flip that was entirely too casual to actually be casual.

***  


Mesopotamia, 3004 B.C.

Aziraphale and Crawley stood at the front of the crowd that was watching the animals walk two-by-two (or seven-by-seven in some cases) onto the ark that Noah had only just finished building. Just as the two unicorns were about to walk up the gangplank, one of the geese came up behind the male and gave his tail a quick yank before scuttling out of range of its hooves just in time. The frightened unicorn gave a powerful buck and executed a flawless rollback before taking off toward the hills.

“Oy! Shem! That unicorn’s making a break for it!” Crawley called out helpfully. “Oh, it’s too late. It’s too late! Well, you’ve still got one of them,” he finished with a shrug.

It was then that Aziraphale noticed the Goose standing beside the last unicorn and looking suspiciously pleased with herself. 

“I say, isn’t that the same Goose from Eden? The one that tried to steal the sword?” he asked.

“How can it be? That was a thousand years ago. I don’t know how long geese normally live, but I know it’s not _that_ long,” Crawley replied.

“Yes, but you must admit there’s something remarkably familiar about her,” Aziraphale insisted as he pointed her out to Crawley.

Once he spotted her as well, Crawley did indeed have to admit (if only to himself) that Aziraphale was right. There was definitely something all-too-familiar about the gleam in the Goose’s eyes. No sooner had he sighted the Goose than she turned her head and looked him dead in the eyes before spreading her wings and letting out a rapid series of honks that could almost be mistaken for laughter. Crawley gulped and shook his head.

“All geese look the same,” he said, as much to reassure himself as Aziraphale. “Best not to worry about it, mate,” he added as he gave Aziraphale a friendly squeeze on the shoulder that lingered ever-so-slightly too long.

To Crawley’s relief and disappointment, the angel seemed oblivious to this.

Instead, he merely said “I suppose you’re right,” with a weary sigh. 

***

A Tavern in Rome, 41 A.D. 

From her hiding-place under a merchant’s stall, the Goose watched the angel Aziraphale enter the local tavern, followed shortly thereafter by the demon formerly known as Crawley. She waited a moment, then stealthily entered the tavern herself and quietly approached the bar where the two were now sitting together, catching up and chatting amiably as if they weren’t both immortal enemies. She arrived at their location just as Crowley admitted that he’d never eaten an oyster.

“Oh, well let me tempt you to—oh. Oh no, that’s your job, isn’t it?” Aziraphale began to offer cheerfully before apparently remembering himself. 

It was then that the Goose made her presence known by jumping up onto the bar, knocking Aziraphale’s drink out of his hand and grabbing Crowley’s before hopping down and making a mad dash for the door. 

“Here, who let that goose in here!” shouted the bartender as the angel and demon stared at each other in shock and confusion. 

“Shall we pretend that didn’t happen?” Crowley suggested after a moment.

“Let’s,” Aziraphale agreed readily.

***  


The Kingdom of Wessex, 537 A.D.

From behind a tree in the foggy woods, the Goose watched Aziraphale and Crowley argue for a moment before making her approach. 

“—As long as you’re being seen to be doing something every now and again,” Crowley insisted. 

“No! Absolutely not!” Aziraphale replied hotly, appalled by his friend’s suggestion. 

“Hraaaauunk,” said the Goose from somewhere in the mist.

Both angel and demon froze in place, matching expressions of horror on their faces. A moment later another honk sounded, this time from a different but definitely closer direction. By unspoken agreement, Aziraphale and Crowley both drew their swords and turned so that they were back to back, ready to defend themselves if necessary from the mysterious, marauding Goose, while their respective associates looked on in confusion. It was all for naught, however, as without further warning and despite her honks coming from ground-level, the Goose began to dive-bomb them from the sky over and over, soon knocking them off-balance and causing them to drop their swords as they slowly tumbled to the ground.

“Well, my reputation’s shot,” Crowley muttered irritably from underneath Aziraphale.

“Yours and mine both, I’m afraid,” said Aziraphale as he endeavored to disentangle himself from the demon. 

Eventually the two managed to right themselves and began to dust their armor off while doing their best to ignore the laughter of their men. 

“Here, what happened to my sword?” Crowley asked after briefly scanning the immediate area for it. 

“Mine’s gone, too!” Aziraphale exclaimed after his own search also proved fruitless.

They met each other’s eyes and sighed in unison.

“That _fucking_ Goose,” Crowley swore.

“Indeed,” agreed Aziraphale.

***

St. James Park, 1862 A.D.

Though the Goose hadn’t made an appearance for nearly a decade, both Aziraphale and Crowley still maintained a habit of scanning the area for her every time they met up. They did so now as they argued about holy water, even as Aziraphale fed the local waterfowl from his hat. As the discussion grew more heated, however, their focus began to slip, and before long they had forgotten about keeping watch altogether. It was when Aziraphale started to put his hat back on before storming off that the Goose struck. As soon as it was in place, she swooped down from the sky –where both Aziraphale and Crowley would swear she hadn’t been a moment before— and grabbed it by the brim before resuming her flight, the hat securely in her bill. Aziraphale gasped dramatically and made a fruitless grab for it. Seeing that his efforts were in vain, he then slumped his shoulders in resignation. 

“Oh, and that was my favorite hat, too,” he said dejectedly as he turned back towards Crowley with the most calculatedly pitiful expression he could manage. 

Crowley fought back an indulgent smile as he snapped his fingers and the hat reappeared in Aziraphale’s hands. If the other demons found out about this, he’d be in no end of trouble, but a part of him that he tried not to acknowledge felt that the unadulterated delight and gratitude on the angel’s face was more than worth the risk.

For his part, and despite how frustrated he was with Crowley at the moment, Aziraphale couldn’t hide his smile, and was about to say thank you when the Goose made another attempt at hat theft; Crowley’s this time. However, the angel and demon were prepared and alert now. At the very last moment, and just as the brim was nearly within biting distance, Crowley ducked out of range while Aziraphale ineffectually waved his arms at her. 

“Shoo! Shoo! Bad Goose!” he fussed as he attempted to drive her off.

The Goose hissed in annoyance and bit him on the nose for his troubles before departing once more.

“You know, as an angel, I’m not supposed to hate any creature, but I am strongly considering making an exception!” Aziraphale mumbled peevishly as he rubbed his aching nose.

***

Outside of a Pub in Soho, 1967 A.D.

“If a man such as yourself should ever have need of a Witchfinder, Mr. Crowley, ye know where to find me,” said Lance Corporal Shadwell. 

Crowley was about to respond when he thought he saw a painfully familiar blur of white rush past a small street sign. He paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in consternation.

“What do you know of geese, Lance Corporal?” he asked finally.

“Geese? Ha! What the bloody hell do geese have t’do with Witches? Unless…” it was now Shadwell’s turn to pause, and he scratched his chin in consternation. “Ye don’t reckon they might be usin’ them as _familiars_ , do ye?” 

“It’s entirely possible,” Crowley replied after a momentary hesitation. “I can’t be sure, but I can promise you an additional hundred pounds for any and all information you can dig up on the matter.”

“Aye, I can do that for ye,” Shadwell agreed with a grin. 

“Excellent,” said Crowley distractedly, as he scanned the streets for any further sign of the Goose. “I can see that you’re the right man for the job.”

After they parted ways, Crowley began making his way to the Bentley, keeping a careful eye out for his feathery nemesis the whole time. He had nearly made it to the relative safety of his car when his paranoia turned out to be completely justified as the Goose darted out from behind a nearby lorry and rapidly pecked him on both shins before hopping up on his car, stealing the sunglasses off of his face and taking to the skies. He shook his head irritably. Though he could have easily miracled them back onto his face, over the past century he and Aziraphale had learned that just letting the Goose take whatever she tried to steal was the easiest way to get her to leave them alone once more.

“That’s why I always keep spares,” he muttered to himself as he got into the car.

***

The Dowling Estate, London, 2012 A.D.

Aziraphale, or Brother Francis as he was currently known, greeted young Warlock cheerfully as the boy ran up to see him as he tended the gardens. Though he fully believed the child to be the Antichrist, he had still grown rather fond of the lad, who was bright and curious and full of questions that Aziraphale was only too happy to answer. 

“What’s that?” Warlock asked, pointing at a bird that was resting in a nearby flowerpot. 

“Why, that’s Brother Pigeon,” Aziraphale replied as he gently threw some of the loose seeds from his basket towards it. “And Brother Snail. Oh, and Sister Slug!” he went on, pointing out each animal in turn before sitting down on the grass. “Now you remember, young Warlock, as you grow, to have love and reverence for all living things.”

“What about geese?” Warlock asked, pointing at something over Aziraphale’s shoulder.

The angel’s smile froze, and he slowly turned his head to see the Goose, standing right behind him and watching him with that ever-present gleam of mischief in her eyes. As he met her gaze, she honked and flapped her wings at him. He took a deep breath. 

“Yes, geese too,” he said, his voice now rather strained. “It’s important to love and especially to _respect_ geese.”

“Nanny says living things are only fit to be ground under my heels, Brother Francis,” said Warlock, clearly unconcerned. “ _Especially_ geese.” 

Aziraphale reluctantly turned away from the Goose to face Warlock and forced out a jolly chuckle.

“Well, don’t you listen to her. You listen to me,” he said with all of the joviality he could muster. “But I must add that the best way to show love and reverence towards geese is to leave them be and let them have their space. As much as possible, in fact.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, Brother Frances,” Warlock replied, slightly confused but not interested enough to question him about it further.

With that, the boy wandered off to see if he couldn’t talk his mother into letting him have an early snack. As soon as he was out of sight, Aziraphale quickly turned to face the Goose once more. He met her gaze and waited for her to make a move. She stared at him evenly for a moment before honking again and once again attempting to bite his nose. He dodged just in time, but soon realized that this was merely a feint on her part, and that her actual goal was to steal his hat, which she easily managed. 

“Clever girl,” he muttered as she swiftly waddled away with her prize.

***

A.Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop, 2019 A.D.

It was a lovely morning in Soho as Aziraphale opened his bookshop to the public. In the year since the apocalypse had been averted, life had changed rather quickly for him, though he found he had little to complain about these days. Gabriel and the other angels were still too frightened to approach him after his near-execution, and he couldn’t say he minded their absence in the least. He had also finally accepted Crowley’s offer to move in with him only a month after they had switched their bodies back, and though there had certainly been an adjustment period, he honestly couldn’t recall a time when he’d been happier. He hummed to himself as he began to sort through his latest literary acquisitions and thought about what the day had in store. Crowley had promised to bring by fresh pastries from Maison Bertaux later in the morning, and he had plans to meet the ex-Madame Tracy for tea that afternoon. He had just finished putting the last of the new books onto its proper shelf when he heard the front door open behind him. 

He turned, smiled and said “Hello and welcome to—oh, bugger,” he said as soon as he saw who, or rather _what_ had just entered his shop.

“Squarnk,” said the Goose as she casually strolled inside, looking around the shop as though trying to choose her target.

“Oh, no. Oh, please no! These books have been through enough already. Do what you want to me, but please, please leave the books alone!” he begged, his hands clasped together as though in desperate prayer.

The Goose stared at him for a moment with that same enigmatic expression she always had, then turned and walked over to a shelf containing some of his rarest and most prized first editions. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, please don’t do it!” he cried out. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?”

At this the Goose stopped and turned around, looking up at Aziraphale with her head cocked to the side in contemplation. After a moment’s pause she walked over to a different shelf and gently pecked at the side of a book on one of the lower shelves. She then looked back up at the angel, honked, and then pecked the book again. Now curious, Aziraphale walked over to the shelf and picked up the book she’d indicated. It was a signed first edition of the novel “Chaos Below Heaven” by Eugene Vale, and was one of the newer books in the store.

“’Chaos Below Heaven?’ What do you—oh. Oh! Chaos! It’s chaos you want. That’s all you’ve ever been after, isn’t it?” Aziraphale asked, his hands shaking as he placed the book back on the shelf. 

“Wenk,” the Goose replied, bobbing her head.

“And your focus on Crowley and me is because…?” he asked.

At this, she puffed out her feathers and raised her wings in what appeared to be an attempt at a noncommittal shrug. Aziraphale frowned, then looked around at the myriad of old and near-priceless books around him, and came to a decision. 

“Right then,” said Aziraphale as he kneeled down to her level and looked her straight in the eye. “Let me tell you something, Goose. As you well know, I have been on Earth since the very beginning. In all that time, I have never killed a single creature. Not one. And so I must ask you from the bottom of my heart,” at this, he leaned closer until his nose was nearly touching her bill, and he gently placed his hands on her wings. “ _Please don’t force me to break that record_.”

The Goose drew her head back in apparent shock. She blinked, and then met Aziraphale’s gaze once more. His eyes, normally soft and kind, were now hard as steel. She seemed to get the point right away, for she slowly backed off, then turned and walked to the front of the shop. She stopped at the door and turned her head back towards Aziraphale, who took pity on her and opened the door for her even though he knew damn well she was quite capable of doing it herself. Her head bowed respectfully, she cautiously stepped around him and out the door, at which point she broke into a swift, waddling run before taking off into the skies. As soon as she was out of sight, Aziraphale walked over to the nearest chair and collapsed in it.

“Oh, thank heaven that’s over,” he said, massaging his forehead with both hands.

The End.


End file.
